


Out of Place

by spideyranger



Series: Morgan to the Rescue (Reid & Morgan Cuteness) [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Meltdown, Autistic Spencer Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideyranger/pseuds/spideyranger
Summary: The BAU is on a case, Reid gets overwhelmed and gets stuck with the wrong people.
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid
Series: Morgan to the Rescue (Reid & Morgan Cuteness) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161971
Comments: 9
Kudos: 118





	Out of Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a new fic! I'm just changing the series it was a part of!

As the BAU pulls up to the scene Hotch turns and looks at his team. Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid are passengers in the SUV he’s driving. 

“The building is under pretty strict security, so you may want to leave behind what you don’t want them to confiscate”. 

He glances at Reid who avoids his gaze, electing to look out the window instead as he tangles his left hand in the strap of his messenger bag and gnaws on the knuckles on his right hand. Today had been particularly hard for Reid who had just come down from a bad migraine spell the day before and was left inordinately sensitive to light and sound. He knew that Hotch was telling him to leave his messenger bag behind, but the thought of doing so brought on anxiety that couldn’t be easily quelled. 

Reid hums a little bit, hoping to balance out all of the screaming white noise in his head with the calm, even monotones of his voice. Eventually, he nods his head a little getting lost in the repetitive up and down motion before slipping off his messenger bag and bolting out of the car. He knew if he thought about it too much, his anxiety would flare really bad and he would never be able to part with his bag. 

His team files out of the car after him, Hotch gets pulled aside almost immediately by one of the local officers. JJ calls for them up ahead where she is standing by Rossi near the entrance of the building they’re supposed to enter. 

True to Hotch’s word, the security getting in is pretty tight. Luckily their status as FBI agents grants them some level of trust, but they still have to undergo a standard search. 

“Who is the victim?” Morgan asks while surveying the scene once past security. 

The officer Rossi and JJ were talking to replies, “The victim is Jay Winstor and his family is still here upstairs in an empty apartment being protected”. This clears up the security issue, a big politician was killed in his apartment building and his family is here.

“Why weren’t they escorted elsewhere?” Prentiss asks the officer.

“Not fully sure, but my understanding is that they felt they would be safer in the building with security”. Prentiss nods, eyebrows drawn up in disbelieving confusion and fires off a few more questions alongside Morgan and Rossi, while JJ stands a few feet away talking with other local officers on what has already been communicated with the media. 

Reid stands a bit behind his team only moving after being jostled a few times by personnel coming in and out of the building. The bright flash of a forensic camera startles him and he turns away from the scene in pain stumbling slightly and bumping into Hotch. 

“Reid” Hotch says, placing both hands on Reid’s shoulders to balance him out. “Reid, do you need to take a break?” It takes a while for Reid to process his words, having been a bit thrown off from his touch and the barrage of questions, conversations, and flashing lights he just turned his back to. 

Reid nods, eyes squeezed shut. “Break” he repeats. Hotch scans him over.

“Why don’t you step out for a second and get your bearings. If you’re still feeling overwhelmed in 10 minutes, I can send JJ out and she can take you both to the precinct to work for the rest of the day”. Relief floods Spencer’s body at those words and he nods his head, signing “O.K” in ASL to Hotch before scurrying back out the security doors. 

Reid has a pretty limited use of ASL because he finds it hard to coordinate signing--especially when he is overwhelmed and largely disconnected from his body. But he does rely on a few basic signs to get him by in moments where he doesn’t have his AAC device nearby and speech isn’t an option. 

Reid rushes out of the building and immediately heads towards where he last saw the SUV. The windows are tinted which will help limit light, his messenger bag is in there which has his noise cancelling headphones and ipad mini/AAC device. Unfortunately, the car is nowhere to be found. Hotch must have moved it. 

Hordes of people have gathered around the building trying to get a peek in at what’s happening. The chatter among them is loud, infinitely worse than what he heard inside the building. Reid pulls at the collar of his shirt a little and begins a monotone hum again. 

An officer taps him on the shoulder and asks him something but Reid is so far gone and can’t understand what is being said. He staggers away from the crime scene, stumbling through the loud city in hopes of finding quiet. 

People shoot him weird looks and take care to avoid him but Reid hardly notices. On autopilot, Reid navigates to a museum a few blocks away that he loves to frequent whenever he’s in the city. It’s normally pretty quiet in there, but today it’s a bit more noisier as a group of college students are making their way through the exhibits. 

Spencer ignores that attempting to push past them in search of solitude. Just as he’s about to separate from the group someone grabs his arm. He moans in pain, and tugs harsher at the collar of his shirt. 

“Caught this one trying to elope” the guy who has his arm states. He looks to be in his late thirties or early forties. 

“Glad you noticed” a woman of similar age states. She briefly grabs Reid’s shoulder and turns him around. Reid attempts to wiggle out of her grasp, his monotone hum ratcheting up in volume and intensity. “Rich, where’s his name tag?” she asks the man. 

Rich shrugs unsure, his grip still firm on Spencer’s upper arm. “Is he one of yours?” she asks him. 

“Nope, maybe he’s one of Sandra’s” Rich speculates, referencing a member of their team who had to sub out earlier in the trip due to an injury.

“I can keep an eye on him though, I want to make sure he doesn’t elope”. Rich pulls Spencer a little closer to him, slinging his arm over Spencer’s shoulder and squeezing tightly. 

Without his communication device Spencer has no way of letting them know he’s not, in fact, a part of their trip and to let him go. Unfortunately, he ran into the wrong group at the wrong time. The group of college students on the trip were all Disabled--some were like Spencer and were Autistic but all had some varying form of an I/DD. 

The support staff assigned to the trip were understaffed and had realized not too long before Spencer showed up that they were stretched too thin. Unfortunately, their bus wasn’t nearby and the city traffic wouldn’t allow them to end the trip early, so they did their best to work with limited support staff. 

Perhaps if their understanding of the people they were serving were much improved and rooted in strength-based and community sponsored approaches instead of the outdated and harmful “evidence-based” approaches they took, they would have known how to better support their charges and Spencer. However, a combination of harmful and limiting beliefs as well as understaffing led to them employing a less compassionate attempt at “helping” bring Spencer from the brink of a meltdown he was approaching. 

“Hey Kiddo,” Rich starts, “let’s take some deep breaths and focus on the exhibit”. He pulls Spencer’s hand from the collar of his shirt and takes the hand tangled at the bottom of his shirt away as well, pressing it between his hands. 

Spencer attempts to step back in alarm, head shaking rhythmically side to side trying to tell him no. The hand not encased in Rich’s starts flapping by his side. Rich reaches for it and Spencer raises it up near his head before latching onto his hair and pushing at his scalp. The pressure feels nice but the relief is short-lived as Rich attempts to remove that hand too.

Spencer screeches and begins rocking on his feet trying to both self soothe and turn away from Rich to escape. 

“Hey, hey now. Kid stop”. Spencer moans again. Morgan calls him “kid” not this guy. He’s especially missing Morgan at this moment. Rich is slightly bigger and about two times older than Reid, giving him an advantage. Reid is having trouble keeping Rich away, but Morgan wouldn’t. 

Openly crying now, Spencer has attracted the attention of the students, staff, and museum workers by now. His battle against Rich failing miserably as he begins to overpower Spencer. 

Suddenly, a loud commotion distracts everyone and Spencer’s struggling falters. “Stop! FBI!” rings throughout the open room and a guy is headed across the room. Rich uses that moment to pin Reid’s arms to his side and squeeze him in a tight bear hug. 

The meltdown that Spencer had been trying to ward off comes on full force and the last modicum of control he had over his body is lost as he succumbs to an almost animalistic attempt to break free from Rich and self soothe. His discomfort is on full display.

His outburst distracts the Unsub long enough for some of the FBI agents to apprehend him. Rich dodges Spencer’s headbut attempts and tightens his grip on Spencer’s jumping body. He quickly lowers them both to the ground then maneuvers Spencer’s body to be laying on his stomach, bringing his hands behind his back and sitting on his kicking legs. 

Spencer’s attempts to wriggle free are thwarted and he responds by smashing his head on the floor. Rich sighs exasperated. 

“Are you attempting to get brain damage on top of autism?” He tosses out irritatedly at Spencer before tightening his grip on Spencer’s arms and increasing the angle he’s holding them to the point of bruising. 

“I can wait until you’re done throwing this tantrum, you’re the one getting hurt not me” he intones. Spencer, past the point of processing speech, continues to cry out and hit his head. The pressure in his arms are unbearable as are the unfamiliar touches from Rich and the cold, hard floor under him. 

Suddenly, the pressure of Rich’s body lifts off Spencer. He doesn’t hesitate before breaking out into a run, trying to get away. He hears footsteps fast behind him attempting to catch up and runs into the nearest restroom. 

“Kid, kid--it’s Morgan”. Despite not having fully registered Morgan’s words, he notices his reflection in the bathroom mirror and swiftly turns around, falling into Morgan’s arms. He cries so hard he can’t breathe as Morgan shushes him softly and rubs his hands firmly up and down Spencer’s arms in the way he knows he finds calming. 

Later that night, they’re on the jet. Spencer is curled up beside Morgan, his head resting on a pillow in Morgan’s lap. The weighted blanket they keep on the jet is covering him from his neck down and his noise cancelling headphones are covering his ears. Under the blanket, his hands nervously play with a bumpy tangle while he has a chewie in his mouth. 

He’s still riddled with anxiety and keeping up a consistent monotone hum. The other agents glance worriedly at him periodically. They’d never seen Spencer have such a massive meltdown before and the after effects kept him clinging to Morgan the rest of the day and rejecting everyone’s touch that wasn’t Morgan’s. Even the EMT’s who were trying to assess the level of bruising his arms and head got had a hard time doing their jobs. 

Hotch gets up from his seat and approaches Reid. He makes a motion over his ears, prompting Reid to pull of his headphones. Reid does but his humming gets more intense to balance out the sound. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I just got confirmation that the support staff from today are being evaluated for potential malpractice and abuse”. He says soft and firmly. After watching Reid for a second, he nods and walks away. 

Not too long after, Reid drifts off to a fitful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Make comments with any suggested fic ideas!


End file.
